An Unknown Past for the Undecided Future
by TheOneWhoCounted
Summary: War strikes London in 2015, tearing Sherlock and John from what they thought was a 'comfortable' life. However, John and Mycroft have a plan. A plan that Sherlock knows nothing about. The crew of The Enterprise have survived Khan. Star-date 2262, Star Fleet decide to wake one of Khan's crew members. And his identity and ancestors may mean the end of life as they all know it.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the writers/creators respectively  
NOTE: Shout out to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for acting as my editor :D  
**

**This is my first multi-chapter story, so any reviews would be fantastic! I want to know what you guys think :D**

**25/07/2015  
**It was five in the morning when the planes started. Loud annoying roars that slammed shut the doors of my mind palace and hauled my thoughts back into reality. The entirety of Baker Street shuddered as a fantastic explosion turned the night sky orange. John. I had to get to John. Pulling on my coat and grabbing my gun, I stumbled into the bedroom as another blast rocked the apartment.  
"John? JOHN! Get up! We have to go! Now!" Grabbing John's shoulder I hauled him out of the bed and threw his jacket at him. "Get dressed. We have to find Mycroft."  
"What? Sherlock what's going on…?" He froze as the apartment shook, orange light billowing into the room as the flat across exploded into rubble. Ignoring his oncoming PTSD I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the staircase, pulling my vibrating phone out as we ran.  
"We're outside Baker Street, black car." Mycroft's voice comes through the speaker. So calm, so irritatingly calm.

* * *

We burst through the doors and out into the open. This is what John meant by a 'war zone'. Buildings exploding, plane-like objects roaring overhead, and the screams. Typical human behaviour, to scream when they're scared or hurt, so pointless, and I hate it. The car ride was hell. John still had not broken out of his stupor and was staring mindlessly out the window. I could practically see the cogs rolling over in his head _this isn't real, this isn't real._ I want to help, I do, but I know I can't, so I follow his lead and stare out the window as the city I have grown to love goes up in flames. We arrive at our destination, an ominous grey warehouse surrounded by pillars of smoke.  
"Get out. Go straight inside and turn right." Mycroft, trying to order me around. "Sherlock! Are you listening? This is crucial you have to have to do EXACTLY as I say? Do you understand?" Of course I understand, does he think I'm an idiot? That's what I ought to have told him. But I don't. I only nod, I need to stay calm, for John's sake if not for my own. We are herded into a room just as John regains mental consciousness.  
"Sherlock? Where are we? What the HELL is going on?" I can hear his control slipping, his calm soldiers mind slowly breaking apart as his nightmares become reality. Breathing hard he looks around him, deciphering his surroundings in a way only an army-man would. I stop him with a hand on his arm.

"It's alright John. There's been an attack, but we're safe. Mycroft has a plan." I hate saying that, admitting that I have faith in my brother, it leads to too many promises, promises that are almost certainly made to be broken. Mycroft storms back in and I step back, giving him space to pace. He does that when he's stressed, has since we were little, quite irritating if I do say so myself.  
"Right." He stops, faces John and I, "John you know the drill, you know what we are going to do correct?" Wait. What? What drill? I look to John expecting to see the same look of confusion, but he just gives a tight nod, avoiding my glance. "Good. Now Sherlock, John if you would follow me please." The rafters of the warehouse shudder and send a shower of dust onto our heads as an explosion rocks the building. "Quickly." Mycroft leads us out of the room and into a smaller, more intimate space. As I allow my eyes to adjust to the dimness I notice two tube-like tables sitting in the centre of the room. What is this? What has Mycroft gotten us into?

"John, what's going on?" I keep my voice down, the last thing I need is for Mycroft to hear my uncertainty, I'd never hear the end of it.  
"Just do what Mycroft says Sherlock. It'll all be over soon." The tone of John's voice makes me uncomfortable, the finality of the words that he uses makes me think that something is going to happen, something that will change our lives forever.

* * *

"Alright. We don't have much time. I need both of you inside these tubes now." I stare at my brother incredulously, waiting for him to start laughing, prove he's joking around. But his face stays serious, and it's not until he again gestures to the claustrophobic tubes that I shake my head.  
"No. No way in hell. I am NOT getting in those things." I'm speaking too quickly, have to pull myself together, I breathe in deeply and stare my brother squarely in the eyes. "No."

"Sherlock, I understand that you may be uncomfortable with this due to your claustro…"

"THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING." The silence is deafening. So deafening that I'm almost appreciative for the blast that again rocks the rafters of the warehouse. John looks inquisitively at me, then Mycroft. His mouth forms a silent 'O' as realisation hits him and he gives a tight nod. I turn to look at John, our eyes meeting for only a brief second before he turns back to my brother, but that's all it takes. All the pain, self-control and absolute terror John was going through at the moment flooded into my mind. I knew I had to keep him safe. John. My John. He knew that whatever I chose, he had to live with as well, and it was obvious to see that the idea of re-entering a war-zone absolutely terrified him. Collecting my thoughts I sighed quietly. I know what I have to do.

"I'll do it." John and Mycroft stop mid-conversation to look at me, to check that I'm serious I suppose, that's what people seem to do. "You heard me. I said I'll do it." I exchanged a glance with John, and I could see a look of relief spreading over his features. But there was something else. John was nervous, that part was easy to see, but why? He knew we were safe, so why the constant nervousness? Mycroft raised an eyebrow before nodding approvingly.

"I knew you'd see sense eventually. On you go." His voice had a type of finality to it as he stepped out of our path. Breathing hard I arranged myself into the tube, laying down I quickly became aware of how small these things really were, _I don't think I can do this. _But before I could have second thoughts Mycroft's face appeared above mine, he was trying to hide something. But nobody hides anything from me. He was sad, my brother was getting emotional. I attempted to sit up, demand to know what was going on, but Mycroft's hand on my shoulder forced me back down. "Goodbye Sherlock." My eyes widened as the lid began to close. Goodbye? What did he mean goodbye? Again I tried to sit up, did everything I could do get myself out. But the lid was closed. Latched. I was trapped. _Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. _I could already feel myself starting to lose it, but I didn't have time for dramatics. Just as I began to shout, a thick steam of gas flowed into the tube. Holding my breath as best I could I banged on the glass. Desperate. Pleadingly. I could just see Mycroft through the foggy lid but my lungs could hold out no longer. Gasping in quickly I see a tear run down my brother's cheek, my vision grew fuzzy, and then…nothing.

**Tell me what you guys think! I plan to continue with the next chapter ASAP.  
Reviews would be awesome :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE: This chapter may contain spoilers for Star Trek: Into Darkness.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of The Enterprise family, they belong to the lovely writers **

**Star Date- 25/07/2262**

This bloody ship is going to drive me insane. I swear if I have to deal with one more complaint about an 'untruthful Captain's log' from that good for nothing Vulcan I am going to throw him through a wall. Glancing at my watch I sigh and run a hand through my hair, it's well past midnight. After that invasion from Khan the entire Star Fleet has been on red-alert. Security guards standing at the entrance of the shuttles, dead-locks being constructed into the ship's control panel, the list goes on. I lean back in The Chair and close my eyes; this is going to be a long trip. Standing up from my slouched position I wander down to the base of the Bridge, staring out through the glass into the universe warping past us.

* * *

"Captain, I was told you had retired." A stark and logical voice startles me from my thoughts. I turn to see the Vulcan himself walking towards me. Sighing I turn back to the window,

"No I'm taking Sulu's night shift. He's unwell." I see Spock nod in understanding out of the corner of my eye. "…has he woken yet?" I keep my voice low. This isn't something I need anyone overhearing, let alone the nosy bastards I keep for a crew.

"Negative Captain, the prisoner still sleeps. Doctor McCoy stated that he will awake within the next hour. It is best that you are present at that time." My body tenses at that. Nobody ever mentioned I had to go near the guy, let alone talk to him. I keep my eyes on the window and nod. But Spock notices the tightness of my movements. Bloody observant Vulcan he is. "You are uncomfortable with the idea of conversing with this man Captain." It wasn't a question. Spock had obviously noticed the way I avoided the subject of the soon to be awake 'crew member.'

"Yeah Spock. I am. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of having a murderous psychopath on my ship! You remember what happened last time one of those bastards was let loose." Spock's face remained impassive as I stalked back up to The Chair, flinging myself down and fiddling with the controls. I cast my eyes down as my First Officer walked around The Chair and took his seat at the back of the Bridge.

"You cannot hide from him forever Jim; you are the Captain of this ship. Moreover, we do not even know if this man will have the same psychotic attitude as Khan did. But it is your duty as Captain to determine if this is true. With great power, comes great responsibility." The sincerity of Spock's voice alarmed me. Turning The Chair around I face him. Expecting for him to continue but when he doesn't, I know he's waiting for me to say something. But what? What does he expect me to say? I'm about to make some snarky comment about Spock's metaphoric comment when Bones' voice crackles through the intercom.

"He's awake. And he's not happy. Jim get your arse down here." Oh great. He's awake. I take a deep breath and push myself out of The Chair, before pulling out my communicator.

"Chekov? Do you mind coming up to the Bridge and keeping an eye on things? Spock and I have to deal with our visitor." It doesn't dawn on me that he may be asleep until a tired Russian accent answers my enquiry.

"Aye Keptin, I vill be up in two minutes" Clicking the communicator shut. I walk towards the elevator, budging over slightly to allow Spock to join me. He catches my eye as he turns to face the elevator doors and I can see him trying to decipher what I'm thinking. Well I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. Staring straight ahead I hold my head high as the elevator descends to the medic bay. As the doors glide open I notice Bones filling out a patient form outside a drawn curtain.

* * *

"You notified us of the patient's consciousness Doctor?" Spock follows me towards the curtain and leans over to read Bones scribbles. Shuffling around the two 'blue shirts' I glance towards the curtain, waiting for any sign of movement that might mean the guy will attack, but nothing happens. All I can see is a figure lying on a bed, chest moving slowly up and down as he breathes. I can feel my crew mates watching me, and I know I have to do something, ANYTHING. So I step towards the curtain, pausing with my hand on the material before ripping it back harshly. The sight that greets me almost shocks me into silence. Almost.  
"Who is he?" My voice catches and I clear my throat before continuing gruffly "Is he safe?"

"He should be alright, but I'd keep your distance just in case." Bones' voice is quiet, as if not to wake the person on the bed. Bit late for that. The patient sits up, and we all take an involuntary step back.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, and who the HELL are you?"

**End of Chapter 2! I would love to know what you guys think so keep the reviews coming!  
Next chapter will be up ASAP :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the lovely writers!  
NOTE: Thanks again to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for editing my work :)**

**Date: Unknown  
**I despise deliriousness. Always have, and low and behold that is exactly what I wake up to after my little 'epidemic' with my brother. Blinking rapidly, I observe my surroundings. Stark, white room. A medical area of some sort judging by the temperature. But nothing else seems familiar. Huffing in annoyance I sit up quickly, and come face to face with three very shocked, very abstract looking humans. Narrowing my eyes, I observe my three captors.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, and who the HELL are you?" I speak directly to the man in the yellow shirt. It is obvious that he would be the one in charge; I highly doubt any man of his stature would wear a hideous colour such as that by choice. No, the colours resemble rank, that much is obvious.

* * *

"Do you know where you are?" The slightly shorter blue-shirted man is the one who asks the question. Shifting my gaze to him I stare him down, there is no way that I am going to give this man the satisfaction of knowing that I am completely disorientated. Continuing to glare at him, I allow my mind to do what I do best. Observe.  
"No I do not know where I am. But I do know that you are a medical man who grew up in Georgia. Judging by your lack of formality you've been working with these men for at least 5 years if not more. First name basis concludes to a high ranking, but not in charge. You're only a doctor, but you're respected by the other crew members. You've been in a battle, a big one, one where people have died so tell me Doctor. Where am I and what the HELL have you done with my friend?" The look of shock from two of my three captors was satisfying enough, but the unimpressed look of the taller 'blue-shirt' was starting to irritate me. Focusing my attention on him I search his face for any signs of weakness, anything that will give me a clue into who he is. But I find nothing. It's like that bloody Adler woman all over again. Shaking my head I wait for one of the idiots to say something. Then it hits me. John. Where is he? What have they done to him? John, I have to find John.

"Mr Holmes, I am sure that you are fully aware of the situation at hand. You are disorientated and obviously confused. I would advise that you take the necessary precautions to ensure your own safety." The patronising voice made me want to punch him. Who the hell does he think he is? Nobody kidnaps Sherlock Holmes and then tells him to 'sit quietly'. I stare incredulously at the man before attempting to get off the bed. Screw these idiots, I have to find John. But I didn't get far. Two sets of surprisingly strong hands forced me back onto the gurney. Great. Just what I need, three 'Andersons' with muscles.

"Where the hell am I anyways?" If they weren't going to let me leave then I sure as hell wasn't going to sit here with no information. As an afterthought I gesture to the taller blue-shirt. "And what ARE you?" The man raised an eyebrow before coming to stand next to my shoulder. He raised his right hand towards my face and I involuntarily jerked back.

"If you want to know what happens, I suggest you stop acting like a child and allow me to show you." He placed his ring finger and pinkie on my temple while placing his middle and pointer finger at the top of my forehead. "Hold still, I'm about to perform a Vulcan Mind Meld. You may feel a slight pressure at the base of your skull. " He added a sincere amount of pressure through his fingers and onto my head before my vision exploded. Colours dancing everywhere until finally conjoining to create a scene, my scene. I watch from an unknown position as I see my past self reluctantly climb into the tube. From somewhere within my mind I hear the tall blue-shirt man's voice, playing out the situation as I watch. Helpless. Irritatingly helpless.

* * *

"Obviously Mr Holmes, you are fully aware that on this day, the 25th of July 2015, World War Three hit the city of London. You and your companion John Watson were evacuated by your elder brother. But what you do not know is this; both Mycroft Holmes and Dr. Watson had prepared for an event such as this, their plan consisted of yourself and Dr. Watson being placed into chryo-genic tubes to sleep through the war. However, due to the stereotypes of the specific tubes that your brother had possessed, they were unable to be pre-set for such a short amount of time. Therefore, your brother came to the conclusion that you must be set to sleep for longer, 247 years to be precise." I watched in disbelief as Mycroft lent over my concealed, motionless body and allowed a single tear to roll down his cheek. The very tear that I had seen him release not 24 hours ago, at least that is what it felt like. It felt like yesterday.

"Seeing as he is a considerable amount older than you, Mycroft thought it appropriate that only you make the journey, to allow the Holmes' family to live on. That was when Star Fleet came in. Star Fleet is the corporation that myself, and the other two gentlemen you met work for. Yours and Watson tubes were allowed into the care of Star Fleet so as to ensure that you were kept safe. However, due to the early departure date of this voyage, we only had time to awaken one of you." My vision exploded again and I blinked rapidly as the white medical bay recreated itself. The tall blue- shirted man was still standing next to my gurney. "And that was you Mr. Holmes. You alone were chosen out of the 75 other chryo-sleep patients to be awoken. Welcome to Star Fleet. My name is Commander Spock and I am your second in command. Before you ask, no I am not fully human; I am half Vulcan on my father's side." He motions to the yellow-shirted man on my left, "this is your Captain. Captain James T Kirk and you will address him as so. The man at the foot of the bed is Doctor McCoy." Seemingly satisfied with his explanation, the 'Vulcan' sighed and stepped back. This is bullshit.

* * *

"What do you think I am? Some sort of idiot? Do you mean to tell me that John and I have been asleep for 247 years? And we are now living in the year 2262? I'm sorry, but you're going to have to find a bigger idiot to believe that." I again attempt to get off the gurney to find John and get OUT of this place, but again I am pushed down, much more forcefully this time. The 'Captain' steps up.

"Don't you think you're going anywhere you son of a bitch." I stare at him incredulously, by the look in his eyes it seems that he believe me to be some sort of mad-man. I have to act. Now. I swing my legs up and smash them successfully into the 'Captains" rib-cage. Jumping up I find myself unbalanced and almost fall over. I regain my balance and try to make for the door, until I feel an excruciatingly sharp pain in the crook of my left shoulder and I feel my whole body relax. I just have time to see the Vulcan's satisfied look before everything goes black. Again.

**End of Chapter 3! Thoughts? Reviews? Any feedback is great :D  
Next update will be ASAP.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they all belong to the lovely writers  
NOTE: Thanks to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for continuing to edit my stories.**

**Star Date: 26/07/2262**

"I told you this would happen. I told you he would go insane! Just like last time!" I stalked back and forth across the medic bay as Spock and Bones watched me calmly. How could they be so calm? How could they act so normal when we practically have a psychotic killer on the ship! I glanced again at the figure on the gurney, awaiting any signs of movement, any motion that could signify his wake. But there's nothing, the man is completely still. And the suspense is killing me. I whip around and continue my pacing, until Chekov's voice crackles through the communicator.

"Keptin? You are needed on Ze Bridge." Relieved with an excuse to escape the awkward silence of the medic bay, I give Spock a quick order to call me when the bastard wakes, and make my way up to The Bridge. As I leave I hear Spock quietly preparing to move 'Mr. Holmes' into the cell, just for precautions. FINALLY someone is speaking sense. As the elevator dings open I walk onto the already crowded Bridge, greeted as normal by Chekov's eager "Keptin on Ze Bridge!" I gladly sink into The Chair and watch as the frenzy I call a crew washes around me. Pulling an all-nighter is something I knew I was going to regret, but it's not like anyone could blame me, for some reason I find it hard to sleep when I had a psychotic person in the bowels of my ship.

"Alright, Chekov I am sure you have noticed Sulu's absence, so I am promoting you to head-pilot of The Enterprise until Sulu is well enough for duty? Understood?" The glee in the young pilot's eyes is obvious as he nods eagerly and moves over to the right side of the control-panel. Trying to keep my mind off the nagging sense of dread that was seeping up from the medic bay, I busy myself with the task at hand. Re-energizing the inter-calibrations of an uninhabited planet. Or at least that's how Spock put it. In other words, we have been sent to ensure that this uninhabited planet is in fact uninhabited, and then make sure it's not going to explode and kill everyone with 1 million kilometres of it or something like that. Pretty dull if you ask me.

"Ready to varp at your call Keptin." Chekov spins around to face me, one hand resting on the 'warp speed' lever. I glance around, ensuring everyone is seated, and then give the well-known command,  
" Chekov, punch it." I am slammed back into my chair as the familiar sense of protected G-Force launches the ship into warp, once levels are once again stable I stand and begin my normal walk around the bridge. But then it comes, the call I've been dreading.

* * *

"Jim get down here, he's flipping out." Bones' voice comes through the communicator, and he sounds so stressed that I don't even stop to think before running to the elevator and smashing the down button. It's now or never. I race down passed the medic bay and take the staircase down to the very bowels of the ship, where we keep the prison cells. I find the right room to discover Bones and Spock standing a good deal back from the door of the cell, as for the man inside? Well, Bones' diagnosis of 'flipping out' pretty much fits the bill.

"WHERE'S MY FRIEND?! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM!?" Holmes is standing up against the glass smashing his fist against it as he speaks. Both Spock and Bones are now looking at me, waiting for me to act. I hesitate for a second, and then walk up to the glass. This seems to calm the man slightly and he stands back, watching me as I move towards him. The resemblance is un-canny. "Why am I locked up?" Of course he doesn't know, of course he wouldn't remember. He has no idea who he actually is.

"Look. We wouldn't be keeping you locked up if we didn't have to be. Really we wouldn't." I'm going to have to make this convincing. Otherwise he isn't going to believe me. Why would he? "You wouldn't happen to know your grandfather by any chance would you?" He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Not well enough to give you a name, all I know is that he lived in London, worked for some space coordination group and that he dropped off the face of the earth in the late 1950's. Disappeared without a trace, I never met the man." I nod as he speaks, and then continue.

"Well fortunately I can help you with that. Look, this is going to sound weird, but I know…well knew your grandfather. And I can explain his disappearance as well. Back in the 1950's your grandfather did work for space cooperation, this one. And I can give you a name, his name is Khan. Khan Noonien Singh." I pace the length of the glass as I tell Holmes the story of Khan's attack. How he created that group of his to try and take out Star Fleet, and how they put themselves into chryo-tubes to 'wait for a better world.' How he destroyed the Enterprise and killed half my crew in the process. As I went into the details, I could feel my blood beginning to boil. I didn't realize I was shouting until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Bones leans towards me and murmurs something into my ear.

"God dammit man show him the photo! It's the only way he'll believe us!" I mentally smack myself in the forehead as I remember what he's talking about. Slipping my hand into my uniform pocket I pull out a crumpled photograph, I smooth out the creases and plaster it against the side of the glass. The enigmatic look of shock on Holmes' face is almost comical. I suppose it must be strange, meeting a complete stranger just to have them show you an almost exact replica of you that was born 300 years previous.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You idiots are keeping me locked up inside this cage, 247 years in my future just because there may be a slight possibility that I could be related to this man. My apparent grandfather, who lived in the 50's but then was put in chryo-sleep for 300 years and then woke-up and tried to kill your crew? Have you lost your minds?!" I knew this would happen. Stepping forward, I try to think of a snarky remark to throw back at him, fortunately I do not have time to use my wit as Spock pushes me aside, grabs the photo and slams it into the glass with such force it's a wonder it doesn't shatter.

"I know you believe you're clever Mr. Holmes, I know you were treated as a genius back in your own world. But this is a different time, and intelligence levels have change. Now for once in this lifetime use that human brain of yours and LOOK and the photo." If looks could kill, Spock would have been incinerated a thousand times over by the look that Holmes gave him, but eventually he gave in, and focused on the photo until finally, realization set it. You could practically see the cogs ticking over in his brain '_this is real, this is really happening._' But what Spock said next seemed to shock the man the most, one sentence. Not regarding time travel, not regarding his murderous grandfather, but a normal sentence, a 'domestic' topic. "And yes Mr. Holmes, we have your friend. And he is ours."

**End of Chapter 4!  
Thank you all so much for following me with this story!  
Any reviews or feedback are greatly appreciated and the next update will be put up ASAP.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me, they belong to the lovely writers :)  
NOTE: Sorry for the late update! I'll try to keep them closer together from now on.  
NOTE: Thanks again to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for continuously editing my work**

**Date: 26/07/2262  
**I've always had the ability to cut myself off from emotions. Rid myself of the mundane feelings that control the majority of a regular human's life. But I can feel them starting to overwhelm my body, creating a lump in my throat and causing an annoying stinging sensation behind my eyes. Mrs Hudson. Lestrade. Mycroft. Molly. The only people I ever felt comfortable calling 'friends' and they're dead. If what those idiots were saying is true, that John and I have slept for 247 years then they are all long gone. Logic tells me that there isn't even an inkling of chance that I will ever see them again. I begin pacing back and forth within my cell, trying to calm my emotions and put my mind at peace. My mind palace is the only sanctuary I have from this madness, but I can't get in. It's as if the doors have been slammed in my face and no matter how hard I try, they will not budge. I stop pacing and collapse onto the hard metal bench. Staring up at the ceiling I place my palms together and rest my fingertips on my lips. I need to get out. To escape from the tidal wave of emotions that is constantly threatening to drown me.

* * *

Despite my actions, I feel my mind begin to drift to my childhood. Memories that I have kept locked up for so long that I had almost forgotten them. Mycroft teaching me the periodic table, constantly scolding me for getting the elements mixed up or mispronouncing them. Mycroft. My brother. And I'm never going to see him again. I feel a tear slip out from my closed eyelids and I let it fall down my cheek. Better to allow this to happen now than when I am being…observed. I sit up and press my palms hard into my eyes, willing the tears to stop. After a few moments I breathe in deeply and glance outside my cell. I'm completely alone, which is odd. Judging by the vocabulary of the people that I have met I would have thought that they'd have been smart enough to place a guard outside my cell. Obviously not. But I am glad for the solitude as I return to the pathetic excuse for a bed and again attempt to break the barriers of my mind palace. Fortunately this time I am successful and I allow my body to relax as I lock the unwanted emotions down deep into the depths of my mind. Back where they belong.

After what must have been several hours, I opened my eyes. Breathing in deeply I sit up and survey my surroundings. Still locked up, still no one around. But the silence was eerily overwhelming, the type that is normally heard in the dead of the night. I glance at my wrist watch to check the time, but the bloody thing is smashed. Perfect. I rip it off my wrist and throw it against the wall in frustration, the watch face with a satisfying smash and I smirk as it hits the bottom of the cell, that'll get their attention. Sure enough seconds later a red-shirted guard rushes into the room.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He shouts, spit spraying onto the glass as he glares at me. He's a brute of a man, short cropped hair, dull black pig-like eyes and a liking towards custard crème's apparently, judging by the crumbs left on his left lapel and corners of his mouth.  
"Simply entertaining myself. What else do you expect me to do when confined to this tiny room?" I look him dead in the eye, clearly making him uncomfortable. "And I wish to speak with your first officer, the tall one with the pointy ears." The guard looked confused, but quickly shook himself out of his idiot-like stupor and frowned at me.

* * *

"Commander Spock doesn't have time to speak to scum like you. He'll talk to you when he deems necessary. And stop throwing things at the walls! You'll dent the interior." With that he spun on his heel and began stalking out of the room, not before I mumble,  
"Retreating to name calling, an obvious sign of incompetency." I keep my voice low, but loud enough for him to hear. He stops, turns around to look at me.  
"What did you say?" I simply raise an eyebrow and stare him down; eventually the man turns around and leaves the room. Grumbling something about 'not wanting to deal with this shit.' I smirk and return to my bed. I need to get that 'Commander Spock' as he is referred as, back down here. He seems to be the only one with a bit of sense on this ship, and if I am to get out of this cell and find John, I'm going to need his assistance. I despise asking for their help but I know it is the only logical way to get myself out of this situation. Sitting on this slab of metal isn't doing anything for me, so I recommence my pacing. Suddenly, I feel myself slam into the side wall of the cell as the entire ship is hit by an enormous force. Groaning I attempt to get up, only to be thrown back on my stomach by another explosion. Something is wrong. Three different guards race into the room as I try to recollect my vision. One of them comes inside the cell and forces me up.  
"Get on the bed! Now!" He yells in my ears as we're nearly knocked off our feet again as the ship lurches. He forces me back down onto the bed and pushes an invisible button. I involuntarily jerk as mechanical seat-belts strap themselves around my shoulders, restraining me to the bed. But I refuse to be left unbeknownst to what is going on.  
"What the hell is going on?! TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING!" I shout as the guard begins shutting the glass of my cell. He catches my eye and that's when I figure it out. They don't know what's happening either. This shouldn't be happening. This ship is under attack and not a single person on board knows what's going on.

**End of chapter 5! Thank you all so much for following me on this story and I hope that you're still enjoying it :D  
Any reviews and/or feedback would be awesome! I want to know what you guys think.**

**Sorry about the continuous cliffhangers, I've always been awful at endings :/**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the lovely writers :)  
NOTE: Thanks to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for editing once again!**

**Chapter 6  
Star Date: 26/07/2262**

"Just wake the man up!" I shout as another collision shakes The Enterprise. I had been in the medic-bay when suddenly BOOM, The Enterprise is being hit harder than a piñata at a children's party. Bones and Spock look at me from their suddenly acquired places on the floor.  
"Spock, with me. Bones? Wake the man up. If he's the Doctor the information says he is, then we could use his help. Get him conscious and explain everything to him as quickly as possible alright? Then contact me. We're going to need as much help as we can get." Bones took a second to digest what I had just blurted at him, and then nodded in confirmation. As he began working on the frozen man in front of him I took off down the corridors heading for The Bridge, with Spock right behind me. Suddenly we hear Sulu over the speaker.  
"Brace for impact!" Being a Vulcan, Spock reacts quicker than I and pushes me to the ground as the biggest explosion yet rocks the ship. That one's definitely going to leave a mark. Groaning I get up and continue making my way towards The Bridge. But suddenly, Spock grabs my arm to stop me.  
"Spock! What the hell are you doing we need to get up there!" He rolls his eyes in the classic 'you're an idiot' fashion before saying,  
"Captain do you really deem it wise to wake Dr. Watson in the middle of an attack?" I look at him incredulously.  
"You're asking me this now?"  
" It is crucial information." He replies calmly.  
"Well then yes, I do think it's a good idea to wake him up, we're down on staff as is and the best thing we could use right now is a Doctor. And according to _your _records, that's what he is. So can we drop the subject and try and stop my ship from being blasted to pieces?!" He nods once and I push past him and burst onto The Bridge. No time for entrance claims now as another explosion throws the ship around.

* * *

"Sulu! What's going on?" The pilot doesn't face me as he madly tries to keep the ship from dropping out of orbit,  
"An unidentified ship has begun firing at us Captain. Not sure who, not sure why, but whatever it is, they're tearing us apart." He says quickly as he works madly at the controls. I squint out of the large window in front of me and try to see through the field of debris that has encased the ship. Suddenly, as if emerging from a cave, an enormous ship looms before us. I feel my entire crew go silent as the sheer size of the attacker's vessel dwarfs The Enterprise. I can practically hear Spock trying to analyze the ship, trying to figure out who it belongs to and why it's attacking us. But by his continuous silence, I can tell he's coming up with nothing.  
"Should I hail them Captain?" Officer Uhura calls from the back of The Bridge. I glance back at Spock and he nods once before turning back to his control panel.  
"Yes Officer, on screen if you would." A few buttons are pressed and an image comes up on the large screen in front of me. But nobody appears within the frame, and I can only see the empty chair of the opposing ship.  
"This is Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the U.S.S Enterprise. I am speaking to the Captain of this vessel and I wish to know why you have chosen to attack a Federation Ship?" At first there is only silence coming from the other ship, but then an odd crackling voice erupts from the speaker.  
"You have something that I want." With the voice shield on, it is near impossible to hear the person's real voice, but there is something about it that strikes me as familiar.  
"And what would that be exactly?" As I stall for time, I motion to Uhura to try and disable the voice shield; I want to know who this guy is. "And why is it so important that you start firing unannounced?" The voice laughed softly and I heard footsteps from inside the other ship move closer to the microphone, but no closer to the camera,  
"On-board your ship you have a recently woken man by the name of Sherlock Holmes. Give him too me and I will leave you as you are. Fail to do so, and I will blow this ship out of orbit. For now, I will cease fire. You have 24 hours to make your decision. I will be waiting Mister Kirk, good day." The last word had been different, the voice had been deeper. I spin around and look at Uhura who gave me a helpless shrug.  
"I'm sorry Captain I only had enough time to get that last word."  
"That's alright Officer, be ready to try again next time we make contact." I stand up and head over to Sulu's position. "Keep an eye on him and let me know if he changes anything on that ship."  
"Yes Captain." Sulu said as he locked our position. I motion for Spock and Uhura to follow me as I head out of The Bridge.

"Is something wrong Captain?" Uhura asks as we enter the outer corridors.  
"I'm sure Spock has told you of our…predicament with the passengers down-stairs Uhura?" Her nod confirms my theory, "good, then I need you to do something for me. Come down to the medic bay with me and meet this man who we're about to wake up. You seem to be the best communicator on this ship so I think it'd work best if you let him know what's happening. But whatever you do, do not tell him about the man in the brig alright? I'll keep that till later." Officer Uhura nods and starts walking towards the medic bay, but I call her back, "Oh and Uhura? Remember that he's almost 300 years old. Keep the modern-talk to a minimum alright?" She smiles slightly,  
"Yes Captain." With that she turns and continues walking. Spock watches her leave and then turns to me.  
"Captain I assume that you have called me out here to converse the possible identities of our mysterious attacker." Spock, always the realist.  
"Spock, I know that voice. And I think you do as well." I keep my voice down as two patrolmen walk past us, pausing only to acknowledge my presence with a short "Captain" before continuing on their way.  
"Captain, if I am correct, you believe that this man may be the same man who attacked The Enterprise previously. But I can tell you now that this is a highly illogical thought as it is near impossible that he would have…"  
"Okay! Yes Spock I think it might be Khan! Don't you think I know how ridiculous that sounds?" I throw my hands in the air and then run them through my hair. "The last thing I want is that son of a bitch to come back, but we have to keep that possibility in mind don't we?" I look back at Spock and he raises an eyebrow.  
"As I said before Captain it is near impossible that Khan would have managed to escape the chryo-tube. But yes, we should educate the possibility that he has returned." For once I am glad for his calm monotone. The last thing I need right now is panic.  
"Alright, thank you. Now, I need you to stay up on The Bridge. You have the com until I get back."  
Spock frowns,  
"Where are you going Captain?". I smirk at his confusion.  
"I'm going down to the medic bay. I'm going to go see what all the fuss is about with this Doctor John Watson."

**End of Chapter 6! Thank you all so much for following me with this story and I will update ASAP  
**  
**Any of your reviews or feedback would be greatly appreciated :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: Again, I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the writers.  
NOTE: Thanks yet again to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for editing my work.**

**Chapter 7  
Date: 26/07/2262**

I twist and turn beneath the metallic restraints as the repetitious explosions rock the ship. Closing my eyes I attempt to keep my head still. It's been constantly slammed from one shoulder to another throughout the attacks and I can feel the symptoms of a headache appearing already. I can hear shouts coming from somewhere on the higher decks of the ship, not long after the muffled voices start, the explosions stop. I sigh and twist around to see if anyone is going to release me from these infernal straps, but the area outside the cell is empty.  
"Let me out of these things!" I shout in an attempt to make them aware of my current situation. No voices answer my shouts but I hear a loud click next to the base of my head as the straps begin to retract in on themselves, freeing me from the metal slab. I sit up and stretch my back. As I do so I hear a strange crackling noise coming from outside of my cell. Turning around to face the mysterious noise I see a human-like shape forming from a holographic image. I'd heard of holographic messages before, but I'd never put any thought into them. Curious, I walk over to the glass of my cell and watch as the image continues to form. The face of the man takes shape, and I step back in shock. The hologram is me. Or at least, a very close replica. Almost of its own accord my brain begins to make deductions; eye colour, cheekbones, hair colour and facial shape are exact, but his stance and slicked back hair style screams 'military', and I am not a military man.

* * *

"Before you ask, no this is not some sort of sick joke and no, I am not a figment of your imagination." The man practically takes the words out of my mouth as he looks at me levelly. Scrutinising my obvious look of disbelief.  
"Well if you're not a joke, and I have not created you of my own accord, who are you and why the hell have you taken my shape?" The words feel strange in my mouth, as if speaking some foreign language of shape-shifters and identity stealing. The smirk on the man's face tells me otherwise. So this is what it feels like to be looked down on.  
"I haven't stolen your shape Mr. Holmes, I wasn't even aware of your existence in this time until two hours ago." Suddenly it dawns on me, this man knows who I am, and he knows where I'm from. More importantly, he knows _when_ I'm from. Successfully shoving my confusion aside I again walk up to the glass.  
"You're Khan. The man the Captain was telling me about. And you're the one who's attacking this ship." It isn't a question, I stare the man dead-on, not allowing myself to panic. He matches my stare and we stand like that for what seems like an eternity, identical eyes boring into each other until he spoke with a sense of finality in his voice.  
"Yes Mr Holmes, I am who your Captain says I am…"  
"He's not my Captain; he has no control over me." I interrupt his droning monotone as I break eye-contact and turn to face the back of my cell.  
"My apologies. I do not have much time left so I'll make this simple. Yes, you are my grandson and yes we are almost exact replicas of each other. But that doesn't matter, my proposition is this; you come and work with me and together we finish the work that myself and my crew started." I turn around and look at him. This man, this…relation of mine has only just met me and now expects me to work for him. He must be stupider than I thought. But the idiocy of my grandfather isn't the first thought in my mind.

* * *

"Not without my friend, not without John." Khan's face remains impassive as he considers my demand.  
"Very well, your friend is welcome to join us if he is fit for work. You have 24 hours to consider my request Mr. Holmes. Know that if you decide to refuse, the consequences will be dire." His voice cuts off as the hologram disappears. I stand still for a few seconds, considering what I have just been told. His request is perfectly logical; after all I am being treated like a prisoner on this lump of metal. But reconsideration is vital, this man has just willingly attacked the ship, and if I am to put my life..._John's _life into his hands, I must deem him safe before doing anything irrational. I reposition myself on the metal bed and begin opening the doors of my mind palace. But as I close my eyes, my thoughts are rudely disturbed by the emphatic entrance of the bulky guard and three of his cronies.

* * *

"You're wanted in the medic bay." He grumbles, not meeting my eye as I sit up and observe my visitors.  
"Is that so? And why would that be I wonder?" I say as I stand up to engage the man in obviously unwanted conversation. He glares at me but then smirks. An idiotic smirk that many ordinary people do when they think they have out-smarted me. Not this time. "Ah. They've awoken my friend." The smirk slides off his face and creeps onto mine as I take the words out of his mouth.  
"Just stand back." He says and slams his meaty fist into the disengage button. I step back smartly as the glass disappears and the three guards automatically position themselves on either side of me.  
"Oh and escort, how fitting." I mumble as I follow the wave of 'red-shirts' out of the holding area and into an outer corridor. Spending most of my time in that cell hadn't give me a chance to see this ship properly and I can't help but feel impressed as I'm walked through the stark white corridors of the ship and up two flights of stairs. We arrive at what could only be the Medic Bay. As we turn into the starch-smelling room, I see Captain Kirk and a tall, slim dark women standing by a bed. As they hear us come in they move aside to allow me to see the bed's recipient. John. The death-stare that he gives me is extreme and absolute but I can see relief in his eyes. Of course. They didn't tell him I was alive. I push past the guard in front of me and walk over to my friend.  
"Are you alright?" I ask. John gives me a withering look before nodding. Suddenly he grabs my shoulder and pulls me down to ear-level.  
"What the HELL is going on here?" He whispers hoarsely into my ear, "I've just been told that I've been asleep for 247 years and that I'm now on a ship in space. If this is one of your experiments I swear to God I will kill you." He's referring to Baskerville, the time I locked him in that room with the 'Hound'. Perfectly safe conditions, but I seemingly scared him more than originally thought.  
"This isn't a joke. Whatever they tell you is real." I say before pulling out of his grasp and standing up. He looks at me incredulously before turning to the Captain.  
"In that case, then yes. I accept." Wait. What? Accepting what? I look at John, expecting an explanation.  
"John, what are you doing?" He looks up at me confusingly, clearly I've missed something.  
"I thought they told you Sherlock. I'm taking up the role as their doctor assistant. I'm going to work for The Enterprise."

**End of Chapter 7!  
Please feel free to give me any reviews or feedback, I love to know what you guys think :)  
I will update ASAP.**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they still and will always belong to the writers:)**

** NOTE: I apologise for the super late update. I'm not as happy with this chapter as I have been with the others, but tell me what you guys think :D  
NOTE: Thanks again to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for editing my work :)**

**Chapter 8  
Star Date: 26/07/2262  
Time Remaining: 22 hours**

I must admit the reaction of the army doctor was a lot less severe than I had originally thought. All he did was stare at Uhura for a couple of seconds, before nodding shortly and staring straight ahead. Uhura was right in saying this man was a soldier. He held himself like a military man. I feel a light tap on my shoulder and I notice Uhura has joined me in observing the man.  
"He took it a lot better than I thought he would. Are you certain he's the right man?" I glance at her quickly, then return my gaze to the short man on the bed.  
"Yeah. He's our man." I'm interrupted by the loud bang of a swinging door hitting a wall as three officers walk in, escort formation. In the middle of them is Holmes. He pushes through the guards and walks over to his friend. The extremity of the death stare that Watson gives the man is so severe that I almost start laughing. Uhura and I stand together awkwardly as the two men have a hushed conversation until Holmes straightened up. Watson leaned around his friend and looked me in the eye,  
"In that case, then yes. I accept." He speaks directly to me, ignoring the shocked face of his friend. I nod at him and look at Bones for confirmation; he too nods and then continues on with his work. Holmes looks from Watson to me before saying,  
"John, what are you doing?" The look his friend gives him seems to confuse the taller man further, and he stands impatiently, waiting for an answer.  
" I thought they told you, Sherlock." Watson replies, "I'm taking up the role as their doctor's assistant. I'm going to work for The Enterprise."

* * *

This time the incredulous look of confusion on Holmes' face is too much for me and I attempt to cover my amused snort with a cough, earning me a sharp elbow in the ribs from Uhura.  
"I'd keep your mouth shut unless you want to be punched in the face by an angry 300 year old man." She hissed in my ear as Holmes turned on me,  
"What the hell does he mean he is working for The Enterprise?" I knew it wasn't a question, but despite the warning look from Uhura I answered,  
"Your friend has the capabilities and doctorate qualifications that we need in our medic bay. Even if a little 'out-dated' we still thought we should offer him the job. So we did, and he took it." The simplicity of the plan seems to confuse the man further. As he continues to look incredulously from me to Watson, a cool voice from directly behind me almost makes me jump. Almost.  
"Captain, you wanted to see me? I have left Sulu with the comm." Spock doesn't bother to keep his voice down and the deep monotone catches the attention of Holmes, who turns around and glares at Spock. I step back, this is about to get interesting.  
"Of _course_ you have something to do with this." Holmes said, leaving his friends side and walking towards Spock. Being stopped only by the two guards that step between them. "I know you enjoy the idea of having an intellectual advantage over the rest of these people. These 'ordinary' people. But don't think for a _second _that I am one of them." This seemed to stump the Vulcan and I almost laughed. It was a rare sight for Spock to be caught speechless, and he obviously was not enjoying the sensation. Turning to me he spoke starkly and quickly,  
"Captain I would advise that you make Mr. Holmes aware of the situation immediately. We have twenty-two hours and counting." Right. The countdown. Shit. Sending Spock back to The Bridge I turn to Holmes, who is still fuming after his little spat at the Vulcan.

* * *

"Look. Holmes. Whatever you and Watson have to figure out, it can wait. We've received a…message from someone who seems to be interested in you. Now, don't worry we…"  
"The name you are searching for is Khan." Holmes interrupted me. I stare at him for a second, not too sure if he's kidding or not but Holmes holds my look levelling. Until finally I break eye-contact and pull out my communicator.  
"Chekov? Send Commander Spock down immediately. Tell him it's urgent." I don't wait for the reply as I spin around to face Holmes,  
"So you mean to say, that while you were being held in our brig, our _soundproof _brig, a man who is supposed to be asleep in a chryo-tube got onto this ship and spoke to you?" The sarcasm is clear in my voice, but obviously not clear enough for Holmes.  
"Yes." His voice is a monotonic drone, this man isn't kidding around.

* * *

"You have to be joking! There is no way on earth that Khan could be out of those tubes. And even if he was there is _no _way that he could be on this ship!" Holmes rolls his eyes at me, and then focuses his attention on something behind me.  
"I am sure your Vulcan friend will be able to explain the _clearly _over-intellectual way that Khan contacted me, seeing as it seems too much for you, _Captain._" His voice was dripping as I resist rolling my eyes and turning around to face Spock, who seems almost, if only a little, shocked.  
"Holmes is telling the truth. Mister Chekov and I checked the security tapes of the holding brig and there was a holographic image projected into that room. We traced the image back to its original point of creation and managed to create an image of the said holograph. He's back." Spock didn't drop my eye contact as he spoke, and swearing under my breath I turned back to Holmes, who had a satisfied smirk on his face.  
"He gave you a request didn't he." It wasn't a question, but Holmes nodded. Advancing quickly on the still smirking sociopath I spoke quickly,  
"Whatever the hell you are thinking, whatever sort of _incredible _deal he gave you, you have to listen to me. Do, not, take it." But the man only smirked, locking his blue-grey eyes on mine,  
"I have 24 hours to consider his request. Give me a good reason to stay by then and I will. But let me tell you _Captain, _that if you don't give me a decent reason to stay on this ship I will take Khan up on his offer. And he, will, _destroy _you."

**End of Chapter 8! Thanks so much for being patient with this story and again I'm sorry about the late update :/  
Reviews and any feedback is awesome!  
Next update will be ASAP**


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